


Her Blank Pages

by Raefever



Series: The Day that Silence Died [2]
Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Death, Elena misses Victoria, Good siblings, Grief/Mourning, Sisters, These are good children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raefever/pseuds/Raefever
Summary: When Victoria died she left behind plenty of things. What bothered Elena the most was her diary. It still had a few blank pages left. So out of grief for her sister, Elena wrote to her sister on those pages.





	Her Blank Pages

August 18th 1973,

Dear Victoria,

  
I pray that you don’t mind this. I’ve read your diary. I admit, shamefully that this is not the first time. But this time I have a reason for doing it.

You see, I couldn’t think of a better way to manage this, this... mess than by finding a way I could stay close to you. You’re diary has blank pages. Pages that need filled. Your life cut short. I will fill them on your behalf, though instead of addressing the diary as the person I am writing to I will address all that I write to you. Is this weird? I hope you aren’t angry, this is my first only way to feel connected to you.

You died nine hours and fifty one minutes ago. This may be the longest time I have ever spent without you. I miss you horrendously already. Pero I have no choice. I can’t be selfish. I have to keep living, even if my only reason to do so is so _you_ won’t be angry at yourself.

 

 

August 23rd 1973

Dear Victoria,

  
It’s only been mere days since you left us, your familia, it’s only been a few days since you left behind this world. The living world. I’ve racked my brain for many questions to ask you, though now I have boiled it down to just one. How did you ever manage?

I’ve sat thinking over the past days about how you coped with the family on your shoulders, you took amazing care of everyone. I don’t know if I can do the same. The world seems so much more challenging without my hermana by side. Of all the people to leave this earth early, you deserved it the least. The pain you went through was unjustified.

Mamá and papá are struggling. I never said this would be an easy situation to go through. I never thought this was something we would go through in the first place. It’s painful to watch our parents fall apart. Papá barely eats anything. Mamá won’t even leave their bedroom. They are parents who lost their first born child, torture in its own right. Mamá said she can’t lead the business, so I have to.

It’s hard to think of the rest of my life without you. No one else here knows what it’s like to loose someone who you can’t remember a time without. My life has been changed drastically. I always believed that you would take over the business, but now that’s my job; I always thought I’d get to scare your boyfriend away, just like you did for mine; I wanted our children to play together growing up. What am I supposed to do? Victoria, please help me. This isn’t fair.

 

 

April 30th 1974,  
  
Dear Victoria,

  
If you have a sister who died, do you stop saying you had one? Or do you always have a sister. Even when separated by something as large as death are we still siblings? I say we are. I’ve always been with you, I haven’t known a time when you weren’t there right by my side.

Will much change when we reunite? Do we go back to how things were before we were separated or will our lives be changed too much by then for it to all be the same? I don’t think it’ll be the same. I’ll be older than you by then. Do you still age? If you don’t then it might be fun to be the older sister, I’ll get my turn.

Will you even want to be my sister after this life leaves me? Will I be so old that you no longer think of me as a sibling? Will I be wise and old, and you young and free, standing still against the harsh effects of time, until death comes to collect me?

You met an early end. Death came knocking before he was invited. He changed both our lives, he rewrote mine, he ended yours abruptly.

I can see why Oscar and Felipe never want to be separated now, I feel my other half has wilted away in my hands. Outwardly we were never as close as the pair of them, I find it tricky to believe we didn’t get along as well behind everyone’s backs. You remember. I know you still think about every night when we would crawl close to each other, hold the other tightly, tell stories of the future. Is the future over? Or just being rewritten?

 

 

November 14th 1974,

Dear Victoria,

  
It’s been over a year since you upped and left. I miss you undoubtedly. For all those times we fought, for all the times we both stated that we despise each other, the meaningless fights we had, they bare down on me, I feel guilty for all the bad things I’ve said. Time seems so slow. It crawls by. Which makes it all the more painful to watch my life be so long and fulfilled compared to the crashing, rapid end.

I’ve found it harder and harder, ten times more difficult to write in this diary. It feels _interesting_ to say the least, holding a so heavily one sided conversation with my dead sister.   
I have to keep reminding myself that you’re dead and gone. I have days were I forget I no long have my hermana to call for when I need something from the highest shelf. Nor do I have my best friend in life.

 

  
April 25th 1975,

Dear Victoria,

  
Today I am exactly as old as you were when you died. And I can tell you one thing. I am not even slightly ready to die.

I wonder over the past year or so what it feels like to die so prematurely, so unnecessarily early. Is it painful? Does it hurt to know that you were the first, every friend you ever had separated from you for so long. I suppose you’ve made new friends on the other side, better friends than the ones you had over here. I ran into a few of your old friends yesterday, they seemed to be fine, like they don’t mind that you aren’t with them anymore. I don’t know how anyone could move past you. Victoria, we never appreciated you enough while we had you, I’m sorry.

 

  
September 2nd 1975,

Dear Victoria,

  
My writing is becoming more sparse. Each time I do I begin to feel that I’m just stirring up old hurt.

I wonder how you felt. Did you feel free? Liberated from the shackles of life?

I read something you wrote in a journal labelled ‘poesía’.

 

_‘When my life comes to a blazing end,_

_I didn’t choose to leave behind my friends,_

_Who shall face the fears I found too much?_

_Weak and alone, I dried my own tears,_

_I have to go after only years’_

 

Did you write all of that?

You have a gorgeous mind Victoria. You aren’t dull. Did you know? Did you know how soon you would die? You’re a mysterious one, there was always parts of you that we could never figure out. You wore a purely emotionless mask, a fake face to hide the pain. To be like you was all I ever wanted as a child, to be intelligent, responsible, calm. But from where I stand now I see how demanding your responsibilities were, why you were closed off and cold. I understood that you loved us even if you never said so, we knew. But did you know that we loved you?

 

  
December 15th 1986,

Dear Victoria,

  
It’s been so long since I wrote in your diary. I thought I had finally moved on, thought I didn’t need this anymore, I thought I didn’t need to talk to you. But that’s not true.

A few hours ago papá past away. He wasn’t in pain. He didn’t pass suddenly, we knew it was coming. He’s with you now isn’t he? You must of been so happy. He was. He wasn’t sad when he heard he was going to die, he felt delighted at the thought of seeing you again. Of course he never wanted to leave mamá, me and his grandchildren, but it’s just been so long since the last time any of us had the privilege of telling you we loved you, had the opportunity to hug you, to show you how much we care.

I’ll tell you that it’s bizarre, one half of my family resides with me, the other half with you. Dear sister, do you feel the same? We’ve been split down the middle, you are with papá and I am with mamá. It’s oddly... perfect. You had always been so close to our papá, as am I with our mamá. Of course I love and miss papá, I’m certain you love and miss mamá too. I miss the both of you more than anything else in the world. Please remember that. I love you.

 

  
January 9th 1989

Dear Victoria,

  
Recently things have been difficult. After papá joined you mamá’s mind started to slip away from her. It was hardly noticeable at first, small things escaped her mind. But now it’s drastic, she doesn’t work in the workshop now, she spends all her time with her grandchildren and housework. She’s just so... depressed.

I don’t know what to do. I need your help. I need my big sister. I need you.

 

 

November 1st 2017,

Dear Victoria,

  
I feel like I’ve failed.   
Tonight Miguel ran away from us. We found out he’d been hiding a guitar and Ernesto de la Cruz movies. I smashed up the guitar, it felt right at the time. He loves music so much, but I can’t let him, music tore our family to pieces. I need your advice. What do I do? We’re trying to find him. I’ve failed my family, I’ve lost my grandson.

What would you have done? You would have had a better solution. Ever since we were little you were smarter, more reasonable, responsible. Better. You were always better. I can’t do this. I need you. I need you so much.

 


End file.
